


Come On, Get Higher

by JustJasper



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bottom!Bull, Established Relationship, M/M, Orlesian Tickler, Sex Toys, top!dorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 11:07:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4917238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustJasper/pseuds/JustJasper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian has plans for their time off in Orlais.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come On, Get Higher

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'Orlesian tickler' for [Wham! Splat! Porn!](http://wham-splat-porn.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://justjasper.tumblr.com/) for more dying about the OTP.

**“We aligned mouths. We entwined. All act was clutch,** **All fact contact, the attack and the interlock** **Of tongues, the charms of arms.” - W. H. Auden**

The room is all gold and blue silk, a huge four-poster bed the centre of it. If Orlais does one thing right, it's make a decent bed. This one probably wasn't made with qunari in mind, but it's big and sturdy enough to take him without worry.

The Bull is naked, and has been the majority of the last day. There's still a week ahead of them to spend time with the rest of the Inquisition on break, or to see Val Royeaux properly, but for now he's happy here.

“You've got plans for me, huh?”

Dorian is similarly naked, holding a small wooden box. He sets the box on the bedside table without elaborating, and climbs onto the bed with the Bull, straddles his knee and wraps his arms around his neck for a kiss.

“While in Orlais,” Dorian says, against his mouth.

He smells fresh and clean from the bath they fucked in a few hours ago, his own scent just starting to overcome the smell of soap and oil. The huge claw footed tub and collection of obnoxiously expensive-looking products are a rare luxury, and they've been indulging.

Dorian slides his tongue along the Bull's lower lip, and teases his way inside. His thumbs press behind the Bull's ears, massaging the place he knows will get a low rumble of approval. He deepens the kiss, gamely steers the Bull to where he wants him, and shit, that's hot. Dorian is hot, relaxed and loose and eager for it.

One of Dorian's hands leaves his neck, trails down his over his clavicle and chest, takes a handful of his pectoral and squeezes.

“Two great racks,” he says, voice pitched low enough to be an impression. He nips at the Bull's grinning bottom lip, catching it between his teeth and tugging. “Aren't I lucky.”

His hand wanders lower then, over the Bull's belly and to his cock, mostly soft between them. Soon remedied by Dorian's skilled touch, as he strokes in slow, tight slides, twisting as he reaches the crown.

He kisses the Bull while he moves his hand, and only when his cock is full and hard does Dorian sit back to admire his handiwork.

“You like?” the Bull teases. Dorian rolls his eyes.

“I'm sure it would have come up by now if I didn't enjoy your cock.”

He reaches down to the Bull's balls with his other hand, rolls them him his palm and squeezes. Dorian never neglects them, knows just how how rough to be with them to make it good. He pinches at the spongy head of the Bull's cock, and the Bull grunts as his hips jerk with the sensation. Dorian grins and does it again.

“Do you remember the time I made you spend just from that?” He pinches his thumb and forefinger again, and the Bull groans. “Took much less time than I imagined it would.”

“I remember, shit,” the Bull says, and the dual sensation on his cock and his balls threatens to see him done far too soon.

“Not today, though,” Dorian says, slides his fist down over the Bull's cock instead, a less intense sensation, but still a good one.

“Because you have plans.”

“I may. Turn over.”

The Bull does, turns over and presents his ass, assumes that's what Dorian's after. His hard cock drags on the silk sheets, even as he cants his hips up.

“That's it, Bull.”

There's a faint pop and then not long after, one of Dorian's oiled fingers teasing at his hole. He leans down to kiss the meat of the Bull's ass as he slides it in, one smooth stroke. The Bull grins against the pillows, moans at that first stretch.

“Two today,” Dorian tells him, as he slides a second oiled finger inside. “Or would you like three?”

“You stick to your plan,” he says, as Dorian curls his fingers and rubs his prostate. “Fuck, kadan, I trust you.”

That has Dorian groaning, fucking his fingers into him and leaning down kiss over his backside again, bites down, then licks at the little hurt. Dorian takes his mouth from the Bull with a teasing scrape of teeth, kisses his way up over his ass and curls his fingers again.

“Now,” he says, as he slides his fingers out. “Turn over again. I want to see your face for this.”

The Bull's knee protests a little, but he manages, lays back amongst the pillows as Dorian goes for the box he set aside earlier.

“I'm going to guess that you know what this is,” Dorian says, as he opens it so the Bull can see the contents. On a plush purple pillow is something leather, covered in bumps and ridges with a strap at one end and a softly tapered, textured tip at the other.

“An Orlesian tickler,” the Bull says, with a chuckle.

“Have you used one before?”

“I've worn one, not taken one. What gave you this idea?”

“While in Orlais,” Dorian says again, grinning. “Are you agreeable to me using it on you?”

“Shit yeah,” the Bull says.

Dorian gives a pleased hum, and takes the tickler out of the box. He might have tried it on already, the Bull thinks, as he slides it over his lightly oiled cock and secures the small strap around his balls. It bulks out his cock considerably, makes it look formidable. The Bull wants it so bad.

“How does it feel?” the Bull asks, as Dorian moves between his legs. He eases his knees up, presenting himself to Dorian, who is watching his body and coating the tickler with oil.

“Snug. Not uncomfortable, just a bit odd. What really matters here is how it feels for you.” He presses the textured head against the Bull's hole, slides it over as he looks to him. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, kadan.”

Dorian breaching his body with the tickler is weird and good. Dorian's cock is usually smooth, the head stretching him out and his body clamping down around the shaft once it's through. This is slightly bigger, not enough to give him trouble, but it's not smooth at all. The slightly rough texture of the head makes him itch, and he grabs behind his knees to keep them up while Dorian settles.

He pulls back, pushes forward, sliding through his guarding muscles, and the Bull groans.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” the Bull says.

Dorian begins to slide in, tortuously slowly. The Bull can feel each set of bumps, each ridge as he slides inside, steadily stretching him out, filling him. Dorian is the one to make the Bull wrap his legs around him, slides his hands up the Bull's thighs onto his belly, his hips.

“Strange, not to feel your body around mine like I should,” Dorian says.

“It good?”

“Yes,” Dorian says, as he presses his hips flush to the Bull. He leans forward, and the Bull meets him halfway for a kiss. “It's not as... much, as feeling your body. But it's so tight.”

He hums happily, then cries out with the sudden sensation of Dorian beginning to drag his cock, and the tickler, out of him as slowly as he slid it in.

“Fuck,” the Bull groans. He can feel every dent and every groove of the thing, small as they are, as if they're huge ridges and notches. “Fuck!”

His cock is leaking a steady dribble of precome onto his stomach, and Dorian has his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches his face. The Bull doesn't let himself mask anything, lets each jolt of pleasure show for what it is, for him.

“Kaffas, Bull,” Dorian says as he begins to fuck him properly, pushing in and pulling out steadily. The Bull groans, the sensations a jumble of sharp and tickling, hard and smooth. He grips handfuls of the sheets and rolls his hips back into Dorian's.

He's never quiet, but he feels like he's being louder, making more needy, breathy sounds as Dorian picks up speed. The ridges catch against his muscles when Dorian goes deep, and fuck, he's so full of Dorian and the leather tickler it makes his hips jerk with pleasure.

Dorian puts a steadying hand on his stomach, still looking at the Bull. He tries to squeeze himself around Dorian, an old trick, but it only succeeds in lighting up his body with sensation. He yells.

“I felt that,” Dorian says. “Let me make _you_ come, Bull.”

“Yeah,” is all his manages. “Yeah.”

Dorian fucks him with long, hard strokes, and shit, he's getting close. He's only ever come just from being fucked on a Tamassran's saartoh nehrappan, which was plain leather, not like this. He could, he thinks, he could, if Dorian would just—

“Fuck me,” he says, demands it, and grabs for Dorian's backside. He pulls at him, encouraging him to fuck him harder, faster, and Dorian gamely does, ragged breaths and sweat shimmering on him.

“Yes, Bull, show me how to make you come, that's it, let me make you spend on my cock.”

Dorian plants his hands on the bed either side of the Bull's torso for purchase, and _hammers_ his hip against him, grunting with the exertion of each thrust. The Bull moans, strangled sounds, each stroke in and out a muddle of sensations, building towards something. Something, he's – _fuck_ – if Dorian doesn't—he's going to—

“Fuck!” he yells, as he comes in great ropes over his belly and chest, body spasming around the tickler, Dorian's cock, toes curling and an iron grip on the man's ass as he stumbles over getting the man's damn name past his lips. “Dorian! Yes, fuck!”

“Kaffas,” Dorian says, and the Bull is vaguely aware of Dorian's hand around the base of his own cock between their bodies, squeezing, stopping himself from coming while he keeps fucking the Bull through his orgasm. “Kaffas, Bull, you're fucking beautiful, fuck—”

As the last of the sensation crashes over him Dorian slides out of him, fumbles with the tickler and groans when he gets his fist on his cock proper. A few strokes and he spends himself over the Bull's twitching, still leaking cock.

Long moments later, the Bull becomes aware that Dorian isn't touching him.

“Hey, kadan. C'mere.”

Dorian leans over him, presses their bodies together and kisses him greedily, hands sweeping over his biceps to his face, where his holds his cheeks and smooths his thumbs over his scars.

“Fuck Orlais,” the Bull mumbles. “But man, _fuck_ Orlais.”

Dorian laughs, grinning and breathless and so handsome all sweaty and debauched like this.

“You know,” he says, giggles, kisses the corner of the Bull's mouth, “the little shop I got it from was having a sale.”

“Oh?”

“It seemed a shame to only come away with one thing, when everything else was such a bargain...”

“Shit, Dorian. I like a man with a plan.”

Dorian grins, looks at him like the Bull is everything to him in that moment, and shit, isn't that something to think about. He pulls Dorian close, kisses him again, hums into it.

“Oh,” Dorian says, “I have some plans.”

**“Sex is just another kind of gravity.” - Khalid Masood**

**   
**

**Author's Note:**

> Koutou did some [fanart](https://uotuok.tumblr.com/post/164404046119) from this piece! I am blessed by my friends tbh.


End file.
